


Marching Bands of Manhattan

by Geromy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Asexual Character, Humanstuck, M/M, Pocstuck, Road Trip, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geromy/pseuds/Geromy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat and John make their way to Los Angeles for a fun-filled vacation including Hollywood, Santa Monica, Disneyland, and a real L.A. concert. Except extended hours alone with who very well could be the love of his life leaves Karkat more than a little flustered, and beyond frustrated with the fact that John's already been snapped up by someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marching Bands of Manhattan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johncrocker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johncrocker/gifts).



"I started seeing this guy, Dave!"

Boy had those words stuck him like a fork. Those words had stuck him, turned him over, and declared him done and ready to be shoved in a bun and slathered in too-sweet unnecessary condiments, to become a meal for some entitled, rich asshole at his pompous company barbeque.

Karlos Vantas hated this character with all his being, and he wasn't even sure what the guy looked like. He hated him so much he still called him a "character" instead of a person, eight months after the announcement had been made in the first place.

At first he was sure it wasn't jealousy, oh no. It was rightful anger. Who could possibly have been treating John better than him? Karkat was the one who stayed up with him into all hours of the morning, as they dove deeper and deeper into some philosophical discussion. Karkat was the one who talked to him, every day. They had in jokes, they flirted constantly. If he used every Dane Cook movie he had ever watched as his bible, which he did, he was doing everything right.

It was John who was wrong. He chose wrong. He was unappreciative and blind and fucking braindead. A complete and utter vegetable lounging in a hospital bed. And to top it off, Karkat was probably the only person who still fucking visited! What an asshole. What a rich, egotistical piece of shit cock sucking asshole. After all Karkat did for him he’d still swing off with what’s his face. Obviously The Character must have offered something Karkat didn’t. Probably kept things interesting by being a good friend one moment and an abusive ass the next. Figures he’d go for the asshole, didn’t they always?

But after a few months past, he started to come to his senses. Maybe the near daily reality checks from Kanaya did him in when it was all said and done. But he definitely changed his mind. So much so that looking back on it now, what he had said and written, about one of his closest friends? It disgusted him. He was just jealous, plain and simple. Pathetic, petty, disgusting and jealous.

But that was okay with him. He tried to be the person who could be a good partner. Maybe he didn’t even fail at it. Maybe it was just as simple as John just wasn’t into him. That was fine. He could live with that. Besides, Justin Long’s cinematic masterpiece He’s Just Not That Into You taught him all he needed to remember about this deal not being the end of the world.

He still hated that piece of shit whoever he is, though.

Thankfully, John didn’t talk much about him. Didn’t invite him along to anything, didn’t even mention him in passing. It was like he knew, was completely aware of how upsetting it was for Karkat, and was actually considerate enough, and more surprisingly smart enough, to accommodate that. Maybe he didn’t give the guy as much credit as he deserved? They were best friends. And it’s not like it had ever been a one sided affair in that respect.

Maybe Karkat was the asshole. No, that would make Dane Cook a liar. There was no way.

Regardless of whatever bitter resentment was still left bubbling in the pit of Karkat’s stomach, and pain and disappointment weighing on his broken, innocent heart, things were pretty much the same as they had always been. Still goofing off, still talking late, even still flirting on some occasions. And now in the middle of the blistering and sweltering summer, they were about to spend a nice long week just the two of them, road tripping through three states all for a fucking concert. What a joke.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Open windows made the heat a lot more bearable. And now that he was behind his wheel, (his favorite place to be) he couldn’t even remember why he had ever been angry in the first place.

He looked over from the driver’s seat, one arm propped up in the open window to hold up his lulling head. He was lazily steering with his other wrist, feet long since rested now that they could glide along with cruise control. John was in the passenger seat practically mirroring the position, lazily and very ineffectively pressing buttons on his 3DS one handed. His lips were moving a little, too, and it didn’t take long for Karkat to work out he was trying to sing along to the music currently playing on the radio.

What a fucking dumbass; this was a Spanish station. He didn’t have a fucking clue what these words were to be singing along.

Outwardly he rolled his eyes, just in case, by some chance of fate, John would happen to look up at that exact moment. The last thing Karkat needed was to show even remotely that he found any stupid shit John did endearing. That would be the end of him. But he didn’t look up. Of course he didn’t look up.

In fact instead of looking up, John let out a pained and annoyed grunt, and Karkat heard the smack of his Nintendo getting roughly shut. The thing clattered up onto the dashboard seconds later, only to tumble right back down to John’s feet.

“I’m bored. We’ve been driving for hours!”

Now Karkat really had to force that eye roll, lips slightly upturned from where he bit back a full on grin.

“No shit we’ve been driving for hours, who the fuck do you think has been the one doing it? You were the one who insisted- insisted that we do this the “real old fashioned way.” You were the one who absolutely had to drive instead of fly. What did I say to you when you suggested it?”

John’s limbs flopped around in his seat from his mini-temper tantrum, adjusting his position to seemingly get more comfortable.

“You said John, it’s a 17 hour drive, what the fuck are you thinking.”

“Right, and your response was?”

“The road trip is the most important part! Which it is! And it’s not like we’re doing the full 17 hours today. We already have a hotel booked in Sacramento. Planes are so much worse anyway? Have you been on a plane? They’re loud and stuffy and there’s always a baby.”

“Implying there isn’t a baby in this car,” Karkat muttered, waiting the one, two, three seconds for…

“Oh, fuck you. Don’t lie and act like you aren’t having fun.” John turned away long enough to roll up his window, practically rolling over in his seat to turn back like some awkward restrained seal. “Let’s play I Spy.”

“I spy with my fucking eye, trees and dirt. There, we’re done. It’s Oregon.”

“Not for long,” John chimed, apparently having already gotten bored enough to start dicking around on his smart phone. He held it up for Karkat to see, which he only did for about a third of a second before looking back to the road. “We’re like only twenty minutes from the border!”

“Great, only two more hours until Redding and I can get some dinner before I walk out into traffic.”

“Are you already hungry? Let’s stop in Ashland instead. We should get there like. Now.”

Fuck, he was right. And he jerked forward when Karkat’s foot hit the brake, preparing for the inevitable city limit speed zone they were about to hit.

“I don’t think I need to eat a meal. But we could stop at a gas station and get some snacks, I guess.” Sounded like a decent plan. He could use the stretch, and you could never be too careful about keeping your tank full. Not that they were that close to running low. His car was a fucking rock when it came to gas mileage.

The only thing that didn’t seem to be an issue on this trip was bathroom breaks. Didn’t seem like either of them had a single problem setting up shop on the road’s shoulder whenever necessary. Let’s see The Character be so casual and bromantic.   

Stopping in Ashland only wasted about 10 minutes of their time. They stocked up on soda and grabbed some penny candy, and with a quick top up they were back on the road as fast as they had come off of it. John had his finger through a sour ring before he even had his seatbelt on, lips pursed around it as he sucked off the sugar.

“Two more hours to Redding then two and a half hours to Sacramento. Then we can watch terrible hotel cable and sleep!”

Karkat scoffed from his seat, swallowing down his handful of Swedish Fish. “Like you haven’t been sleeping since we fucking left at eight.”

“That’s not true,” he argued, moving the candy he was chewing to the back of his mouth to talk. “I woke up for Taco Bell.”

“And have been whining ever since.”

And continued to whine, until they were thanking their Hostess for their table at some weird diner in Redding, California. John disappeared behind his menu remarkably quickly. So much so Karkat got a little worried. Was he really that hungry and hadn’t bothered to say anything?

“It’s a good thing ordering meals is easier than ordering desserts. Why are peanuts such a popular ice cream topping? Maybe they could try something not deadly.”

“I think the appeal is in the salty sweet contrast,” Karkat muttered, eyeing up his own menu as his stomach clenched and growled under the table. What were the odds that lobster roll was made with real lobster? Zero. Who was he even kidding.

He looked up when he heard a familiar chime, John’s phone up and toward his face.

“Siri, define rhetorical.”

The chime went off again before she answered, and Karkat loudly and pointedly talked over her.

“Very clever, that was probably the sickest burn you’ve ever gotten me with. Stop fucking around and find something to eat so we don’t get to the fucking hotel at three AM. I’d like to have a shower after being stuffed in a tiny metal box with you for eleven hours.”

“Joke's on you, I already decided,” he answered snootily, reaching over to pat his folded menu. “You can’t go to local diners and not get tuna melts. Diners do them best."

“Fish and cheese is not a combination I’m interested in trying. I’m human, thanks, not a fucking feline.”

John leaned in with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow, and Karkat was already sinking into his seat. He knew what was fucking coming next. Boy did he fucking know what was next.

“Tell me again how you got your nickname, Karkat.”

“By shoving catnip up your asshole. Shut the fuck up.”

At least John was enjoying himself, the way he laughed so warmly. It made Karkat’s heart swell out of happiness, sliding up his menu to make sure his face was covered.

“Don’t be like that, I think it’s cute. There’s nothing shameful about taking dance class when you’re young! And I’m sure all kids get attached to a costume as much as you got attached to yours, Señor Kitty Kat.”

“Cállate la puta boca, shit-for-brains. I’m sure we’d find tons of embarrassing bullshit in your childhood if we looked.” God, how could he be grinning this much? Over John? After all this time? While he was seeing someone? Oh right, dinner. Whatever, mushroom burger sounded fine.

“All you’d find is a folder full of programming clusterfucks. And maybe a rigged magician’s jacket.”

“Wow, nice, who was your assistant, your Dad?”

“Obviously.”

Karkat lowered his menu in as slow of motion as he could muster, gradually revealing just how disappointed his expression was. And it was met with John’s same usual cheeky ass smile; the one that advertised that he had won, again, because he always won, and he always would, because Karkat couldn’t argue with him. The one that made Karkat’s stomach tie in knots and his heart flutter, because he didn’t care about getting bested so long as John fucking Egbert was the one besting him.

After the waitress took their orders the table fell silent, Karkat sending his dad a quick text update while John likely did the same. Mr Vantas wasn’t a worrier, though, (at least not when it came to general safety) and his reply did nothing but make Karkat’s eyes roll.

[07:38PM] Dad: CLAWS TO YOURSELF MI VIDA (\/)!_!(\/)

Looking back on it, Karkat was beginning to think he shouldn’t have bothered coming out as bi to his poor father. All the man wanted to do with his life was slowly drown in his collection of ceramic crustaceans. Now all he did was worry, no matter where Karkat went or who he went with, that hormones would get the best of them like some cheesy 90’s kid’s help ad.

[07:39PM] Me: RELÁJATE IT’S NOT LIKE THAT.

He opted to put his phone away before the topic got him too flustered to sit here. He started to gulp down his water as he tried to take his mind off of it, watching as John seemed to just be scrolling through his phone. Probably checking Reddit or something, loser.

“Oh,” John said suddenly, making Karkat’s gaze shoot across the room. “I forgot to tell you. I hope it’s cool I just got a single queen for tonight. I figured you wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“Not at all,” Karkat answered, bringing his gaze back slowly and cautiously. Turned out John hadn’t even looked up. Christ, he was pathetic.

Refuge came with their meals, and for a good twenty minutes Karkat finally had an honest to God distraction to keep his mind busy. The relaxing carried well into the rest of the drive, too, his stomach satisfied and digesting. All that was left was consuming enough caffeine to kill a toddler to keep him awake until Sacramento. Not making it out of the diner until quarter after eight despite how much they rushed put a little damper on his original schedule, but he faulted that to the extra stop in Ashland. Karkat knew how to plan a road trip. John was the one who ruined it. (Definitely not I-5 traffic). Now they weren’t due to arrive until nearly 11.

And it was hardly 10 when John started falling asleep again, curled up on his seat and under his jacket with the heaters blowing right at him. His eyes were open but his yawns were coming more and more frequently. He was too cute for his own good. Karkat was walking a perpetual limbo of not being sure which he wanted more, to punch the bastard for being a smart ass, or have some Notebook style moment with him under the pouring rain.

“I’m going on a camping trip,” Karkat started, “And I’m packing clean underwear.”

He could almost hear the smirk as John breathed out, slightly adjusting himself in his seat. “Can I come if I pack a toothbrush?”

“No, you can’t come.”

“Can I come if I pack pants?”

“Nah.”

“Can I come if I pack candy?”

“Yeah, you can come.”

“C words,” he answered decidedly. Karkat nodded and gave a thumbs up. John’s body wiggled as he moved to sit up, a hand appearing out of his jacket to scratch his nose. “I’m going on a camping trip… And I’m packing a tent.”

“Can I come if I bring a sleeping bag?”

“No, you can’t come.”

The hotel was a Godsend. John was a morning showerer and opted to check out their prime television channels (all six of them) while Karkat’s mission number one was to wash his hair. He wasn’t particularly dirty, but there was just something indescribable about washing off after a long day. By the time he was finished John was practically moved in; down to his boxers, air conditioning on, curtains closed, watching Robot Chicken and munching on ice straight out of the bucket.

Karkat scrubbed at his scalp with his towel as he came out, assessing the situation with a completely apathetic expression. Did he really care at this point? About anything? He climbed into bed next to John after he was satisfied with his hair, disappearing under the covers and widely yawning. Still a good six or seven hours of driving to go tomorrow. But at least that was a sufficiently smaller amount. And John already promised that Anaheim was going to be among their first stops, because Karkat had never been to Disneyland and there was no excuse not to if they were going to be in Los Angeles anyway. That was his reward.

They sat in silence for episode after episode of terrible night time cartoons before Karkat lifted his head, observing John from where he was sprawled out backward to watch TV from the foot of the bed on his stomach. The ice crunching had stopped ages ago. All Karkat could hear was the near-silent whistle of his breathing from his nose.

“John,” Karkat snapped, giving him a nudge with his toes from under the blanket. John stirred a bit in response, answering only with an irritated grunt. “John, shut the TV off and actually get in bed. You’re going to kill your fucking neck sleeping like that.”

Despite the annoyed protest in his tone John listened, clearly still groggy from the way he rolled his way onto his feet and nose dived into the pillow. He half heartedly managed to shimmy his legs under the blanket, and within moments he was as still as he had been. Karkat watched his face for a minute to make sure his eyes didn’t open, before sitting up just enough to adjust his covers to cover him properly.

John was such a child sometimes. His face was pressed against the pillow enough for his lips to be all squished together, his hair was utterly wild, (which even in its unkempt state was a vast improvement over the flat top he sported in freshman year), his lips were chapped, he had speckles of acne on his shoulders, his eyelashes were way too long for his face, and the burn scar on his jaw distractedly interrupted the dark color of his skin.

He was beautiful.

Unfortunately for Karkat, he fell asleep with butterflies in his stomach and a flushed face. And when he woke up, the feeling hadn’t absolved at all. He kept rolling over to go back to sleep everytime he seemed to wake up, determined not to let his day start off flustered for John Egbert. The only reason he eventually opened his eyes was because he heard the door close, which sent him on high alert. But when he sat up, it was just John. Dressed, sopping wet hair, and carrying two paper plates stacked with breakfast.

“Oh, you’re finally up,” he said, setting both his plates down on the bed. Karkat rubbed at his eyes, stomach growling both with nerves and with hunger. “I was worried you were gonna sleep through breakfast hours so I just went down and grabbed you a plate. It’s not really the greatest food, but it’s free, so.”

Looking over at the clock through squinted eyes, Karkat found out that yeah, it was nearing 9:30 already. He was surprised John had gotten up on his own. But he couldn’t really complain.

“Thanks,” he eventually answered, voice still gravelly from sleeping. He tugged the plate of bacon and eggs toward him, lazily taking a few bites while he let his eyes close back up. Why was he so tired?

“I didn’t grab you any shitty hotel coffee. I figured grabbing Starbucks on the way out of town would be more satisfying.”

Karkat nodded in agreement, swallowing down his bite. He hated black coffee. Hated it. Didn’t really care for cream and sugar, either. Call him a girl but he needed all the milk and flavoring the world had to offer. “Thanks for remembering.”

“Uh.” Oh, shit. That was a weird, sentimental thing to say, wasn’t it. “You’re welcome, I guess. Hurry and wake up, we’re losing daylight!”

As much as he had no desire to admit it, John was absolutely right. They needed to get a move on. John turned the TV on to watch while he ate breakfast, giving Karkat the back of the room to get changed, half of a bacon strip hanging out of his mouth while he pulled up a fresh pair of jeans. John seemed pretty satisfied with watching Dora and Boots on their weird traveling adventure; Karkat could even hear him singing along at some points.

Eventually though there was no more time to dilly dally, and by some miracle they were back on the road by 10. One quick stop at Starbucks later and they’d left town. John nursed a hot chocolate from the passenger’s seat, already having removed his shoes and gotten comfy for the long day of driving ahead. Karkat let him freely play around with the radio, given that they listened to his stations the day before- it was only fair.

What wasn’t fair however, was John not letting up on how utterly fucking cute he was. The tired rubbing at his eyes, the fact that he had pointed out how excited he was about the whipped cream in his drink about 14 times, the way he brought his feet up on the seat to pointedly touch all of his toes one by one. It was painful. Karkat was so flushed he had to turn up the AC just so John would have an answer for it without asking.

All was silent until John decided to bring up a topic of conversation, after which Karkat sincerely wished he never gave him the opportunity to.

“You talk in your sleep, did you know that?”

Oh no. Oh no. That was a disaster waiting to happen. His shoulders visibly stiffened, and he hit the gas pedal to pass the guy in front of him on the highway, just for the excuse to turn his head away for the shoulder check. What had he said? What had he admitted? He fell asleep thinking about John, dreamed about John, (well, dreamed about more driving with him, given that had been his entire day previous) and woke up thinking about John. Was there any way he hadn’t said anything obvious? How did he ask in a way that wasn’t obvious?

“I’ve probably been told before,” he answered, keeping his tone steady. “Why, did I reveal my plans to drive us straight into the Pacific Ocean?”

“No!” John answered, defensively enough that Karkat worried he didn’t realize it was a joke. “You wouldn’t do that, even if someone paid you. Unless you knew you could get out? Or if you were under mind control.”

What an attention span.

“No, you were like, mad at me for not checking the tire pressure on your car. You said it was like, one of the most important parts of maintenance and that I was an idiot.”

“Where’s the lie?”

John responded with some weird 90’s sitcom mom snapping noise, shaking his head as he gulped down the last of his drink. Karkat just dropped his shoulders in relief, thankful he hadn’t gotten himself into too much trouble. Not like he counted on that lasting. They still had a few nights together in LA. There was still plenty of time for him to undoubtedly fuck up this entire trip, fuck up their entire friendship, and colossally fuck up the entire 17 hour drive back which would likely end up being spent in complete silence.

“I don’t care what you say,” John said suddenly, digging around his feet for yesterday’s coke bottle which was half full and inevitably flat as The Character’s personality. Gross, was he really going to drink that? “I’m glad we decided to do this. I like hanging out with you.”

As a tinge of doubt hit Karkat’s stomach he found the pressure of words bubbling up his throat, and despite himself, he let it out.

“I don’t see why. I’m pretty sure all I do is insult you.”

He quickly found himself looking away out of shame, slipping a finger in his mouth to nip at his fingernail. Why did he say that? Why would he bring something like that up now of all times? Out of the corner of his eye he could see John’s eyes on him, and watched him shrug as he turned back forward.

“Hey, you just don’t show affection up front unless it’s a pretty serious situation. I know that about you. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Fuck, what a sickeningly sweet answer. That hurt. That literally made his heart twist and clench and leap all at once like the poor thing was having a seizure. Someone not only understanding his terrible stunted emotional growth, but accommodating and putting up with it? Damn, why couldn’t he just sign a marriage certificate right now? Ha ha, oh right.

“I’m not even going to make you respond to that, because I know it’s probably out of your comfort zone. Don’t worry about it, buddy. We’ve been friends for a long time. I know how you work.”

Karkat slumped a bit in his seat. He wanted to say something just to prove John wrong, but he was right. His face was red up to the tips of his ears. If he tried to say something now he would probably just get tongue tied.

So he didn’t say anything, and neither did John for a little while. Karkat was pretty sure he had fallen asleep, bundled up under his jacket again with his head against the window. But before Karkat could even take his guard down and relax a bit John was stirring, turning himself around.

“I know I said Disneyland was top priority, but I think we should go to the Pier, too.”

“You mean in Santa Monica? Alright, why not?”

John grinned a bit, half of his mouth disappearing behind the hood of his sweater. “I’m going to show you the little fountains they have to wash sand off your feet. You’re going to hate them.”

“Why would I hate those? They sound practical and handy to have around.”

“Yeah, except. They put them right on the beach. So they’re surrounded by sand. Your choices are literally to walk right back into the sand and have it stick even worse because your feet are now wet, or put your soaking wet feet directly into your shoes.”

“What the fuck. What is even the point of that? Why wouldn’t you put them in the grass? So what, if you want to even walk along the beach you have to bring a towel? What kind of asshole does that? Oh, here I am, just going for a jog, no bathing suit, no wet suit, not surfing or swimming, but I have my piece of shit fluffy beach towel to wipe off my feet, which I will have to go home and fucking wash because it’s covered in sand now. I mean Jesus Christ. White people, please.”

John threw himself up from his seat in laughter, lifting up a hand to press a thumb to his now watering eye. Karkat swelled a bit with pride, grinning to himself. There was probably no need to get so pompous about making your friend laugh, but whatever. He earned it.

They ended up making decent time with the drive through lunch. John spent a surprisingly hilarious hour and a half making terrible Miis of their friends on Tomodachi Life, making sure to fuck around with his system’s clock enough to carefully construct every relationship on the island. John went so far as to make himself a girl in the game just so he could confess his love to Matthew Mcconaughey, who was unfortunately more in love with Vriska than him. It was truly a love triangle for the ages. At some point he laughed and announced Karlos “Karkat” Vantas’ crush on John, which apparently also didn’t work out. Not that Karkat was childish enough to care about that kind of thing.

Not enough to be overly disappointed, at least.

By dinner time they were finally in LA, where they belonged. John was just enough of an asshole to plug in his iPod to play the Jonas Brothers’ “L.A. Baby” upon arrival, singing along to every word like he wasn’t an absolute embarrassment. It did fit the tone though, with the sun starting to set and the lights of the city beginning to wake up for nightfall. It may have actually instilled the most excitement Karkat had felt since this entire trip began.

He wanted to see the Chinese Theater, go walk down the Walk of Fame, hike to the Hollywood sign, dick around in Madame Tussaud's, eat at Hell’s Kitchen, Goddamn. All of that on top of Disneyland. He was beginning to panic. Was a week even enough time to spend here? How could they possibly get everything done? They already had to waste an entire night on a fucking concert.  

But John assured him they would have plenty of time. They checked into the hotel, found some local pompous pub to eat dinner at, and despite how utterly exhausted Karkat was he pushed through, and night one was nothing but Hollywood. Sure they’d have to come back if they wanted to go to the museums, but the rest of the attractions were actually surprisingly lively at night.

He made sure to send a few photos of stars to his dad once they were back in their hotel room. Karkat was showered and hauled up in bed, while John laid the same way he had the night before, scrolling through Pay-Per-View porn titles to read them out loud and laugh. Karkat replied with a few playful jabs at his sexuality, to which John just threw up his hands in defense and declared, “It’s not my fault allosexuals are so fucking weird.”

Not like Karkat could argue with that, given the evidence in front of them. An army porno called Call of Boobies was pretty much the bottom of the barrel, here.

At least Karkat didn’t have to coax John into bed this time. He eventually put on some 11PM showing of Alien and crawled in bed, asleep before it was over. Karkat forced himself to watch it to the end no matter how ill advised. It was too good of a movie not to. But he was asleep almost instantly when the credits started.

But hours later, he woke up screaming. He shot up suddenly in bed, legs and arms jerking around him, as though trying to ward something off. His heart almost stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, head shooting around to see John groggily looking back to him.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay.” His voice was hushed as he tugged Karkat closer, resting back and pulling him against his chest and keeping an arm around him. Karkat struggled to get ahold of his breath, moving an arm around John and holding onto him for dear life. He timed his breaths with his heart beat as he listened to it, somehow managing to calm down. His eyes stayed open for a long time though, too petrified to close them.

“Sorry,” he said eventually, voice hoarse and down to a whisper.

“It’s okay,” John answered, yawning. “Everyone gets bad dreams.”

Dreams, yes. But the same dream, over and over, for his entire life? Unlikely.

He fell back asleep to the sound of John’s heartbeat, and when morning came around he fought it. He held onto sleep for dear life, every thought becoming about how little he wanted to leave, how little he wanted to have to let go of John, because who would know when he would ever experience this again?

But eventually he felt John’s hand pat his shoulder definitevly, grunting as he forced himself up, which forced Karkat to roll away onto his back. Damn this blanket was surprisingly cold when John wasn’t right there.

“C’mon, man. There’s no sleeping in on vacations. If you want to finish Hollywood today we gotta get a move on. The concert opens at five and I want to have a decent buzz going by the time it starts.”

Karkat’s eyes blinked as he tried to wake himself up, sitting up on his arms and watching John rummage around to find a shirt from his suitcase. John had the unmistakable flat chest, but the way his waist dipped inward was a bit of a giveaway. Must have been why he stuck to such baggy shirts usually.   
  
He rolled himself out of bed finally with a long exhale, shaking his head out to work out the last of the sleep. They made the effort to get a real breakfast this time around, splitting a meal at iHop before heading out on their hike to the Hollywood sign. Which Karkat far, far underestimated. John seemed to enjoy it a lot though, so could he really complain?

They were back at the hotel by four, John insisting he had to shower and change. Karkat wasn’t really sure of the whole concert attendee etiquette, so he observed the outfit John had laid out for help. Seems that tight and black was the general theme. Karkat did have a black teeshirt, but that seemed like it might get chilly.

He opted to pull a red and black button up over the shirt, but his black jeans were pretty average in terms of how well they hugged his legs. He never was one for the whole skinny jean fad. John apparently was- they looked great on him. He tucked in his shirt, gelled up his hair, even dressed up his eyes with some liner. With the blue vest covered in buttons and matching blue Doc’s, he was set.

Karkat almost felt underdressed in comparison. But he couldn’t exactly ask for some style tips, or whatever. Talk about taking his guard down. Besides, if John suggested eyeliner for Karkat too, he would really be fucked. Karkat knew this band, he knew their music. He would be crying the entire concert, and charcoal running down his face would only make that all the more obvious to the strangers around them.

“Alright, I am ready,” he declared, flopping to a seat on the end of the bed and picking up the TV remote. “I think there’s a Burger King like two blocks from the concert hall, so if you want to drink tonight, we can just cab over.”

Might as well. The only thing worse than being drunk was being not drunk while the people you’re with are. He pulled out his cell phone and asked Siri for a cab company, sending one to the hotel. John seemed pleased by this, shooting over a grin. Karkat really didn’t drink often. This probably was an exciting thing for John, as weird as it seemed.

“Don’t give me that look. Let’s just go. I don’t want someone to steal our cab because we weren’t outside for it.”

There was something oddly exciting about taking a cab in Los Angeles. Maybe it was just the amount of limos they drove by? All the lights, all the people. Karkat’s eyes were wide with wonder as he watched everything go by, laying his arms along the sill of the car’s window and pillowing his head in them. He knew this night was going to be emotionally draining, but he never expected it to start before they even ate dinner.

John seemed to take the lead the rest of the night, even paying for Karkat’s meal and keeping their arms together while they walked back to the venue. It was pretty obvious just by looking who was going as well, just based on how they were dressed. Some people walking around were already visibly drunk, especially the screeching girls in cocktail dresses with their done up hair and glittery make up.

The sidewalks just got more and more full as they got closer, eventually ending up in a line up to get through the doors and to their seats. He couldn’t imagine them staying seated for long when there was a standing area, but he could at least get mildly comfortable. John took off to go find them beer, bringing back two glasses each and getting himself sat back down.

“Now there will be no more talking until I have finished one of these,” he announced, holding up a finger for emphasis as he tipped the glass up and practically chugged the entire thing down in one go. Karkat mostly watched with a grin, much more carefully nursing his own glass to about the halfway point.

John’s belch was far from attractive but the satisfied droop of his eyelids sort of was. Karkat rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, drinking a few more generous gulps of his glass.

“If you finish both of those I’m not going to get you more until I’m finished, too.” One down. At least John was taking the second one a little easier.

“Fuck that,” he argued, lifting his glass. “Beer is on me. Snacks are on me. Merchandise is… Not on me, but I mean it’s so expensive, you can’t blame me for that.”

Karkat laughed as he leaned forward and picked up his second glass, nodding in agreement while he drank a bit of it. “Then what, after the concert are you going to treat me to Denny’s? Starting to sound like you’re taking me out on a date, Egbert. Don’t play games with my heart.”

John’s response was a little delayed as he seemed to just be watching Karkat drink, giving his glass a swirl before shrugging. “Well I mean, why couldn’t it be one?”

Karkat scoffed into his glass, suddenly a bit more inclined to chug it a little himself. “That’s pretty fucking obvious, don’t you think?” He held his glass by the bottom as he twirled it a little in his hand, admiring the few gulps left waiting for him in the bottom.

“Karkat-”

John was cut off as a cup full of beer found its way into his lap, a clumsy, uninterested voice from above muttering a quick ‘Oops’. John glanced down at his lap in disbelief, while the guy who had been filtering through the aisle kept on walking.

Setting his drink down on the stadium floor Karkat quickly stood, snatching up the stranger’s wrist less than gently. “Hey, shit for brains. Think you’re forgetting something? You could at least apologize for being a colossal fucking oaf if you aren’t even going to get my friend a fucking napkin.”

Karkat looked back feeling a gentle swat against his leg, distracted just long enough for the guy to pull his arm back and snap a “Fuck off” before continuing on his way.

John was completely silent as his hand continued to wave, his shoulders bouncing in laughter while he tried to put on a sympathetic face. He clearly couldn’t speak but he tried to gesture Karkat back to his seat, shaking his head. Eventually he managed to pull in a breath, moving his hand to his chest as Karkat sat back down.

“It’s okay, I’m okay! It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll be spilling on myself in twenty minutes anyway.”

Not exactly a satisfying response in Karkat’s humble opinion but he nodded his head, sitting back up after snatching his drink. Which he promptly finished, causing John to get back up to his feet.

“Round two,” he announced, stacking up the used cups and carrying them off with him.

Round three shortly followed, which seemed to be John’s point of satisfaction, opting to finish the concert with just a bottle of water. Seemed to be a good decision, seeing as Karkat had already witnessed a few rowdy girls getting thrown out before the opening act was even finished. As soon as the crowd was back to hushed the lights dimmed, prompting the entire stadium to erupt with the sound of screaming. Including a yell from John, who put down his bottle long enough to cup his hands around his mouth.

Guitar gradually started along with drums, and Karkat’s heart was already starting to clench up. Oh, he was so, so screwed. He could tell already. He would be lucky if this night ended with a simple bawling session. Worst case scenario… Oh boy.

Despite the booze loosening him up, Karkat made it pretty far without crying. He was barely fogging up when they finally reached the intermission, assuring John he was completely fine while they both took off for the lobby. Bathroom came first but migration to the merch table was quick, and by the time they were back to their seats Karkat had a hoodie draped over his lap, John holding a CD between his knees, a teeshirt over his shoulder, and a brand new pin joining the collection on his chest.

Karkat took a few breaths to get ahold of himself, gently nudging a finger under his eye to try and discourage any actual tears from rolling down. Seemed like he was okay for now.

When the music started again though he was back to square one, his heart practically leaping out of his chest when he felt John’s hand slip into his. He dragged them both down to the stage, finding a place in the standing crowd to get a better view. But John never did let go. Karkat watched while his other hand mimicked playing piano against his thigh along with the music. His heart was swelling- his eyes almost hurt from trying to choke back the tears that were threatening them again. John was so precious, so gorgeous, a complete free spirit.

Karkat wasn’t sure how much more of this he could even take.

The song ended and John finally let go to applaud, but Karkat’s eyes didn’t leave his face. The band took their quick break for water and a chat, quick to head back into the music. John met Karkat’s gaze for about half a second before Karkat was shooting his away and back forward. This was getting dangerously close.

Taken, taken, fucking taken. He was taken. Had been for months. Karkat had all the time in the world before that happened to say something and he didn’t. He had all these months to get over him, grow up past this, and he didn’t. That was his fault and his problem, not John’s. He wasn’t going to try and dump that responsibility on his shoulders. How would that even happen? Oh, how dare you have the audacity to have feelings for someone, you prick.

The opening of the [next song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llOaNV-xbiI) was bad news from the first note. Karkat looked at his feet to try and ignore it, ignore John, ignore the entire atmosphere. Maybe then he could make it out of here alive. But two verses in he was looking back up, jaw clenched, face about the most flushed as it had been since the night started. The music got to him enough. The lyrics didn’t help. He looked over to where his poor best friend was just enjoying himself, nothing but excitement and wonder on his face. Was he really ready to fuck this all up?

Seemed like he was. The pace of the song picked up and Karkat’s head sunk back down, feeling his tears finally roll over and drip down his face and to the floor. God, he couldn’t live like this. How could he even begin to spend another entire year acting like everything was fine? It was agony. It was still agony.

He looked back up at John, heart pounding in his chest through the continued leaping and sinking. He had to say something. There could not possibly be a better moment than this, could there? John met his gaze again but this time Karkat didn’t look away. He instead flashed a bit of a smile, a hand moving to wipe off his face. John knowingly rolled his eyes, reaching over to take Karkat’s hand again. God, they knew each other stupidly well after all this time.

He leaned himself in close, ghosting his lips over John’s ear and raising his voice just enough.

“I need to say something,” he started, pulling back just long enough to see John turn toward him and nod. Then he moved himself right back over, and finally, with another spill over of tears and one last nervous clench of his heart, he got the words out.

“I love you.”

John pulled away to look at him again, as if assessing Karkat’s expression for more context. Which probably became pretty clear, if his pathetic, glistening, rosey red cheeks were any indication. He shook his head a little as he leaned back in, keeping his gaze down in some pathetic display of respect.

“I know you’re with somebody, we don’t need to talk about it, I just wanted you to know.”

The rate at which he pulled away showed just how on the defensive he was putting himself, but John was too aggressive for him to get away with it. He jerked Karkat back down to his height by the arm, yelling back in his ear.

“We broke up months ago. I didn’t mention it because you never seemed to like him much.”

Oh, God, he fucked this up more than he had even realized, didn’t he. He tried to get the question across with just a worried glance, John responding with a shake to his head before he leaned back in.

“It’s alright, it was pretty chill. I just wasn’t all that into him.”

Surprisingly, Karkat didn’t even have to fight off any swell of pride when he heard that. He was genuine when he replied.

“As long as you’re okay.”

John nodded and turned back to the stage, though only for a moment. He leaned back in, his mouth turned up in a wide grin.

“So you still not interested in this being a date? ‘Cause it’s probably the easiest first date I’ve ever been on.”

Playing out a response in his head, Karkat imagined the suave way he’d look over, grin like a movie lead, maybe kiss him passionately and have some amazing one liner to top it all off. But what actually happened was a sudden sob hopping out of his throat, a hand shooting up to cover his mouth. John was laughing even though it got lost under the music and the sound of the crowd. Karkat could only look at him for half a second in some silent question for permission, before he practically threw himself over.

The song ended right as Karkat’s face disappeared in John’s shoulder, tears soaking into his sleeve while Karkat’s shoulders wracked with every sob and crack in his throat. He felt John’s hands moving up and down his back and God did it feel nice. All he could hear was cheering, whistling, clapping, and the idle beat of a drum introducing their next song.

He felt like the entire stadium’s eyes were on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. John smelled like beer and sweat and laundry detergent and moving away from that could wait until after the encore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I have never written serious John/Karkat before so I hope I did it justice for the long term fans. This is intended to remain a one shot, but feel free to leave a comment and some kudos if you would like more of this ship from me. Thanks guys! Happy National Novel Writing Month!


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